I'm New Here
by mrsefron4evr
Summary: Blaine transfers to McKinley, and surprises Kurt with the news. Klaine.


**Title:** I'm New Here

**Genre:** Romance

**Pairing:**Kurt/Blaine

**Rating:**PG-13 for language and boy-kissing

**Word Count:** 4,414

**Spoilers:** none. Possible spoilers for season 3, but that hasn't happened yet. So none.

**Disclaimer:** Any names of places and people you recognize are not mine. I am not Ryan Murphy. I do not own Glee. If I did, Kurt and Blaine would be married by now.

**Summary:** Blaine transfers to McKinley and surprises Kurt with the news.

**Note From The Author:** This is my first Klaine piece ever, so bare with me if it sucks. I'm a hopeless romantic, and I feel like Kurt would be the "girl", more or less, in the relationship. Also, I know Kurt would never have the guts to kiss Blaine in the middle of a school hallway, but that's why it's called fan _fiction_. Okay. Thank you for taking the time to read this. (Also, pretend they didn't say "I love you" at the end of "New York". Just pretend for the sake of the story. Okay thanks.)

**Blaine**

Everything is so different here. It's crowded, there's nothing on the walls to make the place look appealing, and everything _smells_. You can't place a name to the odor (maybe it's the sweat of the jocks who keep shoving you), but it smells completely different than Dalton Academy. The atmosphere in general is so different. So crowded and packed like sardines. There's barely enough room to breathe. How does he do it? How does he come to this death trap every day and not pass out from the toxic fumes and come home without 25 million bruises all over him? ...Well, he's Kurt Hummel. You've been dating him for a little over 6 months now. You've learned not to question him.

Ah, Kurt. Kurt. _Kurtkurtkurtkurtkurt_. Just envisioning the letters in your head sends shivers up your back. You love him. You know you do. He probably does, too. You both just haven't said it out loud yet. But you want to. Hopefully, he does, too.

He's the reason you're here. Why you decided to transfer to public school, this school more specifically. Ever since you met him and he opened himself up to you, you've been giving him advice. "Stand up to the bullies." "Confront them." "Courage." It's what you've been preaching for God knows how long. But you've never lived up to it. You never took your own advice. You've been hiding behind the painted walls of Dalton Academy. And you've kind of been getting sick of it. And then he comes into your life. This random boy who stopped you in the hallway at Dalton, who probably has more confidence and bravery in his little finger than you have in your entire body, who eventually stole your heart and became the best thing that's ever happened to you. If Kurt Hummel, bruised and broken, can come here and face the bullies on his own, you, Blaine Anderson, patched up and healing, can do it too. You can to it with him.

He doesn't know you're here. He thinks you're at Dalton. He thinks you still go to school there. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Hopefully it will make everything better.

You have it all planned out. It's going to be exactly like when you first met. On the stairs (hopefully), the exact same words, the whole sha-bang. Roles reversed, of course. You've prayed to God he remembers. You're still praying as you turn a corner and start descending the stairs and run your fingers through your dark, curly hair as someone bumps into you _again_. You turn around to secretly glare at them like you've been doing every other time someone's "accidentally" shoved you and _**HOLYSHITTHEREHEIS**_.

He's wearing a periwinkle button-down shirt and plaid pants and the _CUTEST_ little black bowtie ever and you just wanna grab him and kiss him on his pink, plump lips right then and there. But you're in the middle of a crowded school hallway with possible homophobes surrounding you. You wouldn't dare. So, instead, you resort to ducking your head before he can spot you. He was fumbling with his bag, so he doesn't see you. You slow down on the stairs to let him pass you so you can put your plan into play. He rushes by you so fast, you might get whiplash from trying to keep your eyes on him. He's in a hurry. You don't want to make him late. But this might be the only time you see him the entire day. So before you can stop yourself, you tap him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me," you say. Just like he did almost a year ago. And then...andthenandthenandthen...

He turns around.

His baby blue eyes meet your caramel pair. His mouth falls open. You're not sure whether this is a good thing or not. You continue anyway.

"Um, hi. Can I ask you a question? I'm-I'm new here."

He doesn't say anything. He stands there, on the stairs, staring at you. All you're thinking is that he doesn't remember and that this was a total waste of time and he doesn't want you here and you probably look like the biggest idiot right now. And then you do something even stupider.

You smile coyly at him.

_Coyly_.

Like you're such a hotshot romantic.

But he doesn't even get it.

And you're mentally stabbing yourself countless times.

He closes his mouth, and his eyes are staring into your soul, and you can feel yourself blushing like mad and you want to hide somehow, but you can't. His eyes are holding you there. Holding you to this spot. This moment.

"Really?" he finally asks. It's barely above a whisper and you have to strain to hear him, but there's something in his voice that catches your ear and makes the corners of your mouth deepen into a smile. Could it be..._hope_? Is there hope in his voice? Does he actually _want_ you here? His eyes are shining and he's smiling bright. You can only assume that transferring here was a good choice.

"Blaine Anderson," you say, extending your hand in greeting. "Today's my first day at McKinley."

His smile falters as his gaze goes back and forth between your eyes and your hand. Finally, they land on your eyes again. He smiles again, wider than last time, wider than ever before, and begins to laugh softly. "What's so funny?" you wonder to yourself, but you figure out the answer when he launches himself at you and engulfs you in the biggest bear hug ever. At first, you're surprised at this sudden expression of affection, so you stand there, dumbfounded, eyes wide. His arms are tight around your neck, and his head is burying into your shoulder, and he's giggling like a 5-year-old girl, and he's being so fucking adorable right now, you want to scream.

"Blaine," he whispers in your ear, and everything suddenly stops moving. You forget where you are, you forget what you're doing, you forget your own goddamn name. All you know is that Kurt is with you and you're with Kurt and you're _together_. Your arms snake around his waist, holding him tight, and you bury your face into his neck. He's so soft and warm and smells like coffee and you want to attack his entire body with kisses until he's a puddle on the damn floor.

"Oh, Blaine," he whispers again, laughing and squeezing you even tighter. "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too, baby," you whisper back, tightening your arms around his waist and burying your face into his neck even further, breathing him in. You both know you have to pull away at some point, and he does first, way sooner than you want to. He looks at you with the goofiest smile on his face and shakes his head back and forth.

"Why?" he asks, laughing once again. "What on Earth made you decide to come to this hellhole?"

"Well, when you came to Dalton, you were running away, something I had done a long time ago. But then you decided to come back. ...That took a lot of courage, Kurt. I can only imagine how scared you were your first day back. But it got me thinking. If you can go back and face them on your own, why can't I? So, I called my mom, and she managed to scrounge together enough money for me to transfer to McKinley. So we can face Karofsky and the others together."

Kurt's eyes are shining and bright, pale blue. You don't know what he's thinking, but he's smiling, so he's probably happy. And then he does something you'd never expect him to do.

He kisses you.

His arms go around your neck again, and his lips attach themselves to yours.

It's soft and sweet and short, but you melt into it, wrapping your arms around his waist again and locking your fingers together so you, he, and everyone else knows he's yours and only yours. He pulls away after a few short seconds, and you open your eyes halfway, smiling slightly.

"Why did you do that?" you ask him.

"Because I'm happy," he answers simply. His eyes are open and staring into yours as you come back to your senses. "Because I wanted to."

"But aren't you scared..." You look around at the handfuls of people going up and down the stairs around them. "...someone might see? That someone might say something? Or do something to hurt you?"

He shrugs one shoulder. "A little. But right now, I honestly couldn't care less. Because right now, I'm with you. And that's all that really matters to me."

You smile at his sweet words, but you're still scared for him, and for yourself as well, so it's not as wide as it would be if you two were alone.

"Courage, Blaine." he whispers. "That's what you've been telling me from the very beginning. And that's what I'm saying now. Courage."

Your smile is full now: wide, bright, and shining. "So you do remember."

"Of course I remember. That day I met you, that day was one of, if not the best day of my life."

You sigh and hug him tight, securing your arms around him and nuzzling his neck with your nose. He giggles softly, and it sounds like music to your ears. After a few moments, you loosen your grip on him and lift your head from his neck, but you keep your face close to his. You breathe in and out against his cheek, contemplating your next move, whether it's the right time. He's happy. You're happy. It feels right.

"I love you," you whisper softly in his ear. You pull away to look at him, and he stares at you in what appears to be shock. You think to yourself that it wasn't the right time. That it was too early. That it was too random. That he probably wanted to say "I love you" for the first time somewhere romantic like they do in the movies, and that this was the least romantic place of all. But he smiles. And everything seems to be okay for the moment.

"I love you, too," he whispers back, and now everything is fantastic. You smile back and lean in and kiss him ever so softly on the lips. You pull away and he smiles and giggles again. Your heart swells. He is too adorable.

He climbs up to the stair you're on, slips an arm around your waist, and starts leading you down the stairs. "So, where are you going?" he asks.

"Uhh..." You pull your crumpled schedule out of your pocket and unfold it for the umpteenth time today. It's so wrinkled, it's almost impossible to read. But you can just make out the letters of the course and room number. "French in room...203?"

He gasps and halts to a stop. "That's where I'm going!" he shouts gleefully. He then grabs your hand and proceeds to drag you the rest of the way down stairs and halfway through the next hallway. He's laughing like a kid, and you laugh as well. You've never seen him this happy, and it makes you smile. He slows down once the hallway starts getting crowded, and you come up alongside him, walking next to him. He adjusts the position of your hands, interlocking fingers and running his thumb over the back of your hand. You look over at him, he's just about as tall as you if not a few centimeters taller, and he's smiling sweetly at you, blue eyes gleaming with sheer joy. You return the smile and gently nudge his shoulder playfully. He giggles.

Yeah, you're definitely going to like it here.

**Kurt**

You want to kill your Algebra teacher for letting you out of class late. You want to kill your French teacher because you heard from Brittany that she's in a bad mood today, which means she'll throw a fit if you step into the room two seconds after the bell. You want to kill the damn government of the United States for making it a law that kids under the age of 18 have to attend school. That's really the only reason why you're here. Because you have to be. You'd much rather be at home with Blaine. Or at Blaine's house. Or anywhere but here and with Blaine. But he's in school at Dalton now. You can't see him even if you both wanted to. God, this school year is going to suck. You just know it.

You still don't know why you decided to transfer back. Yes, you missed New Directions, but now that you're back, you miss Blaine even more. And yes, going to New York to compete in Nationals was a dream come true, but it would have been even better if it was with Blaine. Blaine's been your boyfriend for just over 6 months, and you've been at McKinley for 5 of the 6. That is if you count summer vacation as part of those months, since you were enrolled at McKinley and he was still at Dalton. You don't want to go to Dalton again, though. Dalton caged you like a bird, and McKinley lets you fly free. You like it much better here. Except for the bullying. But that's subsided, for some reason. It would be absolutely amazing if Blaine...no, that's silly. Why on Earth would Blaine transfer to McKinley? You know he's had a rough past with bullies at his old school, much worse than you it seems. He feels safe at Dalton. You can sense that. He wouldn't even think of coming here. But...it can't hurt a boy to dream, right?

You're still trying to stuff your Algebra notebook into your messenger bag as you make your way past all the sweaty jocks and fake-boobed whores. God, it's disgusting around here. You hold your breath as you weave your way through the crowded halls. You adjust your bag back on your shoulder, Algebra notebook successfully inside, and start your trek down the stairs when you feel someone tap you on the shoulder.

"Excuse me," a male voice asks. You recognize it from somewhere. You can't put your finger on it, but you know that voice... You turn around and-

_**OH MY GOD.**_

It's Blaine. Blaine Anderson. Your boyfriend, Blaine fucking Anderson. He's standing on the stair above you, just looking at you. He's here. Holy shit, he's here. He's wearing a plaid T-shirt and skinny jeans and you just want to jump his bones. His eyes lock dead on yours and your mouth falls open. You're ecstatic with hope. Why is he wearing normal clothes, clothes that look _so fucking good_ on him? Does he go here now? Holy shit, what if? You want to scream and jump up and down and squeeze him to death. But you can't. Your brain isn't sending messages to your limbs telling them to do anything. You're frozen there, staring up at him.

"Um, hi," he finally says. "Can I ask you a question? I'm-I'm new here."

Your eyes get even wider, if that's physically possible. You instantly flash back to that day. The beginning of November, 2010. New Directions sent you to Dalton Academy to spy on competition. The Warblers. Blaine's glee club. Or, former glee club now, you guess. You stop him on the stairs, just a random face in the crowd of boys, and introduce yourself. Using the _exact same words_. Yes, you were undercover. But still. The fact that he remembers is unbelievably sweet. And he says he's not a romantic.

You continue to flash back to the rest of the events of that day. Blaine taking your hand within the first minute of knowing him. Running down the hallway with Blaine, holding hands with him. Blaine and the Warblers singing "Teenage Dream". You remember blushing furiously throughout the whole thing and smiling like an idiot and Blaine practically having eye sex with you. Opening yourself up to Blaine. Revealing your past, your struggles, and him being considerate, caring, and even relating. Blaine giving you the best advice you've ever received in your entire life. Courage.

That was the day you fell in love. The day you fell head over heels in love with Blaine Anderson. The greatest day of your life.

He smiles down at you, that coy smile of his when he's trying to be sweet. Well, it's working. If your heart wasn't racing before, it sure is now. You close your mouth, because you probably look like an idiot right now, but the corners of your mouth subconsciously fold up into a smile.

"Really?" you croak out, still barely able to process what's going on. Could it be true? He really goes to _school_ here now? Please, dear God, or whoever's up there and makes things good, let it be true.

"Blaine Anderson," he says, extending his hand like this is the first time you're meeting him. "Today's my first day at McKinley."

Oh my God. So it is true. He goes here now. He goes to school at McKinley. _He goes to the same motherfucking school as you_. Your smile disappears as your gaze goes back and forth from Blaine's face to his extended hand. It lands on his eyes. Deep pools of caramel that you could stare at for hours and never get sick of. He's still smiling that beautiful smile of his. But now it looks like he had this planned the whole time. He wanted you to be surprised. He wanted to be romantic and sentimental.

Well, it worked.

And he says he's not good at romance.

The damn liar.

You start laughing then. You don't really know why, you're just so overcome with happiness and love for Blaine that you just start laughing like a crazy person. He's still smiling, but he looks really confused too. He must not know how you feel. Maybe he thinks you think he's kidding. But this is exactly what you wanted. So, to show your feelings, you grab him and hug him with everything in you. You tighten your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder, still giggling like crazy. You look psychotic, you realize that, but you need to feel more of him. Need to hold him tighter. Need it to set in that he's there. That he's real. That all of this is really happening.

"Blaine," you whisper in his ear, and just like that, the rest of the world fades away. It's just you and Blaine here. That's all that really matters right now. His arms go around your waist, and his head buries into your neck and you feel on top of the world. Like you can do anything as long as this boy is by your side. He's strong and warm and soft and smells like cologne. Different, but so fucking intoxicating.

"Oh, Blaine," you whisper again, laughing and pulling him even closer. "I've missed you so much." And you have. Ever since coming back, you've missed walking the halls with him and holding him like this and kissing him when you're alone. Knowing you'll be able to do that again is the best feeling in the world.

"I've missed you, too, baby," he whispers back. He's never really given you a pet name before, but you like the sound of it. He buries his head further into your shoulder and holds you tighter and it feels way too good to be real. You pull away after a few moments. You don't want to, but you have to at some point. Why not get it over with now? You look at him, laugh again, and shake your head. You still haven't wrapped your head around the fact that he's _here_.

"Why?" you ask. "What on Earth made you decide to come to this hellhole?"

"Well, when you came to Dalton, you were running away, something I had done a long time ago. But then you decided to come back. ...That took a lot of courage, Kurt. I can only imagine how scared you were your first day back. But it got me thinking. If you can go back and face the, on your own, why can't I? So, I called my mom, and she managed to scrounge together enough money for me to transfer to McKinley. So we can face Karofsky and the others together."

You smile stupidly. You've never been more in love with anyone than how in love you are with Blaine Anderson right now. You forget about everything else, the bullies, your classes, everything, and you do something you never thought you'd do in the middle of a school hallway.

You kiss him.

It's soft on the mouth, and you don't really know why you did it, but you arms go around his neck again and you pull him close without the intent of forcing him into anything. But his arms go around your waist again, locking fingers against your back, and you smile and pull away before anyone can say anything. You open your eyes and study his expression. His eyes are opening too, slowly, and only go half-lidded, and he has some sort of ridiculous grin on his face that you can't read. He chuckles softly.

"Why did you do that?" he asks in a low voice.

"Because I'm happy," you reply. And it's true. You're happier than you've ever been. Except for maybe when you first met him. And when he kissed you for the first time. But this is the happiest you've been in a long time. "Because I wanted to," you add.

"But aren't you scared..." He looks around, you're not really sure for what, but he seems nervous. "...someone might see? That someone might say something? Or do something to hurt you?"

He makes a good point. You weren't really thinking about the consequences when you kissed him. You just kind of did it on impulse and out of love. You shrug one shoulder. "A little. But right now, I honestly couldn't care less. Because right now, I'm with you. And that's all that really matters to me." Which is probably the truest statement ever.

He smiles in reply, but it's not the giddy Blaine smile he has when he's _really_ happy. He's scared for you. You know that. But he has to know that you're going to be okay, that _they're_ going to be okay. Flashing back to another moment from the day they met, you keep your hands on his shoulders and continue.

"Courage, Blaine." you whisper. "That's what you've been telling me from the very beginning. And that's what I'm saying now. Courage."

He smiles wider, that giddy Blaine smile he has when he's really happy. That smile that makes you go weak in the knees. That smile that he had while singing "Teenage Dream" with the Warblers that day, even though you're still sure he wasn't singing _directly_ to you (but it sure felt like it). That smile that you love so so sooo much.

"So you do remember."

When he says that, the first thing that pops into your head is "what is he smoking?" He doesn't think you remember? What kind of ridiculous idea is that? But you don't say that. That would be borderline rude.

"Of course I remember. That day I met you, that day was one of, if not the best day of my life."

His smile is still prominent on his face as he hugs you tight. He nuzzles your neck. It tickles. You giggle like a child, and you feel him sigh on your skin. He lifts his head from the crook of your neck, but remains near the side of your head. You hear and feel him breathe in your ear and you're positive that you're going to be a blob of goo if he keeps this up.

"I love you," he whispers softly in your ear. Time stops after that. Oh my god. Oh. My. God. He said it. Those three words you've been dying to hear from him since Christmas. He finally said it. He pulls away to look at you, and you can barely register what's going on. Your face is frozen in shock, mouth slightly open. Your head is spinning. He said "I love you." He fucking said "I love you." You subconsciously smile. You don't think you've been happier in your entire life. Coming back to your senses, you look into his deep, light brown eyes.

"I love you, too," you whisper back. He smiles and kisses you again, soft on the mouth, barely there. He pulls away, and you smile and giggle stupidly, but who really cares? You're happy.

You climb up next to him, loop an arm around his waist, and start leading him down the stairs. "So, where are you going?" you ask.

"Uhh..." he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled up piece of paper which can only be his schedule. He squints at it, trying to make out what's written. You peer over his shoulder, but you can't read it either. "French in room...203?" he finally reads.

You gasp and halt to a stop. He looks at you in surprise. He's in one of your classes, he's in one of your classes, he's in one of your classes! And French! You actually have a sane person in your French class now! "That's where I'm going!" you shout. You then proceed to grab his hand and freaking _drag_ him the rest of the way down the stairs and through the hallway. You're laughing to yourself, giddy as ever, and you hear him laugh softly behind you. You slow down once the hallway gets crowded and he comes up next to you. You change the position of your hands so your fingers are interlocked, caressing the back of his hand gently. You look over at him to see if he's okay with this public display of affection. But if he's willing to kiss you on the stairs, then he probably is okay with something as simple as this. He looks back at you, and you smile at him. He returns the smile and nudges your shoulder playfully. You giggle for the 4759467th time that day.

Hmm...Maybe this school year won't be so bad after all.


End file.
